"Spiritwolf - Blackmane" by Adam Stevens

The full moon was obscured by thick black cloud as a fell wind cut through the ruins of the ancient city. Rain turned the ground slick with mud and dirt, torrents pouring through the eerily quiet streets. Only the sound of the rain hitting the cold earth could be heard as the wind softly moaned through the overgrown buildings, remnants of Man’s past glory. The patter of rain on the roof of a partially collapsed cathedral could be heard as a small group of men huddled round an open fire, which spluttered feebly in the wind. The flames hissed as the water tried to extinguish the only source of light and heat in the forsaken city. The men tried desperately to keep the fire going as it spluttered and died, the wood soaked through. One of the humans swore as they all lit their torches, casting a feeble light in the darkness that surrounded them. Behind the men, a small group of children huddled together whimpering in fear as lightening split the sky, casting the terrain into sharp relief, the thunder causing the earth to tremble as it sounded through the steadily increasing rain. The children were crying with fear, and one of the humans stood and swung a massive kick at one of them, sending him sprawling to the floor, blood soaking into the fur on his feline muzzle. The child looked up and snarled in defiance, fire burning in his eyes, only the chains holding back his rage.

The sharp crack of gunfire cut through the night, sounding through the city. Silence returned in short order as the children once again cowered in front of the human who spat at them before returning to the circle around the fire.

A long, low, mournful howl echoed through the night, it’s tone causing fear and doubt to seep into the hearts of the men. It carried on for an eternity before starting again. It sounded increasingly closer, and the humans fumbled with their weapons, trying desperately to locate the source of the haunting cries. They stood in a circle, back-to-back trying to see in almost total dark as one-by-one, their torches spluttered and died, plunging them into absolute night. A deep growling could be heard and the terrain was cast in stuttering illumination as one of the men opened up with his weapon, seeing and hitting nothing but air. A muffled scream came as one of the humans vanished, carried away by an unseen assailant. The humans started shooting in all directions indiscriminately.

By the sporadic light that their weapons cast, a black lupine figure could be seen, a fearsome snarl on his face as he vanished again into the night. One after another, the guns were cut short, and soon, the humans lay on the ground, their life-blood draining slowly from them. Their screams went unheeded, swallowed by the unforgiving night as the storm raged on.

Come the morning, there was no sign of the children or the invisible assailant. In time, the bodies of those men that sought to profit from the misfortunes of others were swallowed up by the cold earth, forgotten by all, missed by none.